


Carrying the Banner

by WritingToKeepMySanity



Series: Punk (Newsies) Will Never Die [7]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Soft Gay Punks, Spot Conlon is a Softy pass it on, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingToKeepMySanity/pseuds/WritingToKeepMySanity
Summary: Spot prefers sleeping out in the cold to spending the night at the shelter and Race doesn’t know why.





	Carrying the Banner

“S’too damn cold out,” was the first thing out of Spot’s mouth when he climbed through Race’s window. Brushing the snow from his hair, Spot pressed his lips to Race’s, curling a hand in his t-shirt by his hip. “Mm. Warm,” he grunted.

“Babe, it’s snowin’ out–”

“Really? Didn’t notice,” Spot muttered, curling closer to Race.

Race flicked his ear, even as he smoothed his hands down Spot’s back, under his jacket. “I _mean_ it’s snowin’, why don’t’cha go to a shelter or somethin’?”

“Shelters’re limited. Not a lotta room.”

“You’s one guy. An’—as much as ya hate it—you’s kinda small, how much room can ya take up?” Race laughed as Spot pulled back enough to shove him, before burrowing back closer.

“I work late,” Spot explained. “By the time I gets there, s’all full. So. I sleep outside.”

His hand was trembling slightly, and he curled it into a fist, hoping Race wouldn’t notice.

Of course, he didn’t have that kinda luck.

Race retracted his arm to hold Spot’s hand in both of his, smoothing his thumb across the back of his palm. “Ya know—if I could, I’d—”

“I know.” Spot squeezed his hand. “But ‘m fine, Tony. An’ ya parents already hate me, don’t need ta give ‘em any more reason to.”

Race nodded a moment before lighting up. “Aight, wait a minute.” He let go of Spot’s hand, and climbed out of his bed, crossing to the room. Unlocking his door, he turned back. “I’ll be right back,” he said, before slipping out the door.

Spot furrowed his brow, but shrugged, settling with his back against the wall. Not like he could follow Race anyways, _Maria an’ Mike_ didn’t want him hanging around Spot, let alone sneaking in his bedroom at night.

Pulling the blanket around his shoulders, Spot definitely did _not_ casually bury his nose in the fabric, breathing in something that was uniquely _Race_.

He didn’t want to tell his boyfriend that the reason he didn’t make it to the shelter because he couldn’t come and go, so he wouldn’t be able to come after the rest of the Higgins were asleep.

Spot knew that Race would think he was crazy, that staying in a shelter beat out sneaking through a window every night, but Spot could handle the snow, as long as his tent didn’t collapse.

He was fine.

Race entered the room then, holding a bundle of blankets in his arms. “Here,” ****he said, holding them out to Spot, who gave him and odd look. “Blankets. Since you won’t quit complaining about the cold,” he teased with a wink.

Spot accepted the blankets slowly. “Racer, I can’t take these—”

“Sure ya can. They’s old ones that sit in the closet all year, no one’ll miss ‘em. An’ I’ll feel better about ya livin’ in a—”

Spot cut him off with a kiss, dropping the blankets to cup his face, cold forgotten. Race seemed startled at first, before kissing him back eagerly, one hand wrapped loosely around Spot’s wrist, the other at the back of his neck.

Yeah. He was fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Second punks story I had floating around!! My soft boys :,)
> 
> I’d love to know what you think!!
> 
> xx


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